


Ironic Vvalentine's

by AutoRespawnse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bongs, Drug Use, Humanstuck, M/M, Techno Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutoRespawnse/pseuds/AutoRespawnse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eridan is tired of Dave's music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ironic Vvalentine's

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a little quick cuz I was on a time limit. Hope you enjoy anyway.
> 
> Ok, so the really ironic shit about this fic? I don't even smoke weed. I've gotten a contact high a few times and i know a bunch of people who do smoke though, so thats where all the info came from.
> 
> Also, these notes were updated on 4/20.

You opened the door to your apartment, yawning slightly as you did so.

The pounding noise above your apartment told you that you weren’t the only one home on Valentine’s Day. Your neighbor above you was blasting what sounded like techno, probably at the loudest decibel his immense stereo system would allow.

You personally didn’t have any issues with Dave Strider, the guy who lived in apartment 218. You’d spoken to him on a few occasions and on the off-chance Karkat threw a party, Dave was usually there, mixing up some sick beats for you all to dance to.

No, you didn’t have a problem with Dave Strider.

What you had a problem with was the loud booming “music” he chose to play outside of said parties.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

You wouldn’t really have a problem with the music, if it weren’t for the fact that you had just finished your shift at the sushi bar. Eight hours a night began to take its toll on your mood. You were always tired after a shift at work. Today was Friday, the busiest night of the week for Kato Sushi.

You had been planning to sit down and maybe just sleep for a little while after getting home. But it seemed Dave had other plans for you, because the music persisted.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

The pounding in your head began to start when the song playing started over on a loop. You walked to your bathroom and grabbed the Tylenol, hoping they’d help with your pulsating headache.

You then went back to your living room and sat down, flicking on the television to waste some time.

It was an hour of the same track later that you decided to go give Dave Fucking Strider a piece of your mind.

The booming in your head and the bass continued as you walked up the steps to the second floor. Each upbeat your foot was on another set, each down beat and your head throbbed more. You stalked to Dave’s apartment and raised your hand to knock, groaning inwardly as the track started over again.

You knocked, too softly the first time. As the bass escalated, so did the fervor of your pounding.

“DAVVE STRIDER, OPEN THIS DOOR!” You yelled, slamming your fist into the door as the bass dropped on the track for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

“What Ampora?” Dave opened the door, glaring down at you.

“Turn that fuckin’ noise dowwn! Other people livve here, you knoww!” You spat, glaring right back into his blood-shot red eyes.

“Really, Ampora? I wasn’t aware there were other people round here. Thanks for the memo.” Dave drawled back, rolling his eyes. He moved to shut the door.

“Just fuckin’ turn it dowwn!” You continued, poking at him. “I’m tryin’ ta relax and all I hear is that stupid shit playin’ through my roof!”

“Go fuck yourself Ampora. I’ll play my shit as loud as I damn well want to.” Dave said, moving to the door again. He had started to close the door when a smell hit you.

Foul, skunky, oily, pungent, and herb-like.

“Are you smokin’ pot up here?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Dave raises an eyebrow at you and you notice the glassy look to his eyes. “ _Inside_?”

“So what if I am, Ampora? You gunna call the cops on me? I’m just tryin’ to chill.” Dave leaned against the door jab and produced a joint from the hand that had been on the door. He took a long drag in front of you and your mouth began to water.

“Hold up. You’re the one always bringin’ weed to Kitty’s parties, aren’t you? Did you run out?” Dave grinned and moved the joint away from his lips. He let out a puff of smoke in your direction. You couldn’t stop your eyes from following the joint in its path.

“Want some?” Dave asked, offering the joint. When you moved to grab it, he pulled it away from you. “Inside, snooty. This shits illegal, remember?” He opened the door wide enough for you to squeeze past him. Your desire for some of the relaxing herb was overpowering your sense of right and wrong. You’d come up stairs to bitch at Strider, not sit and smoke weed with him in his apartment while that stupid track continued to play as loud as possible.

As soon as Dave had shut the door behind him, he handed you the joint and walked off, to do what you didn’t know.

The whole apartment was smoky and smelled of weed, sweat, and that distinct male smell.

Your headache was gone as soon as you took that first drag on the joint between your fingers.

Dave popped back into view carrying a bong and you let yourself grin.

The next couple hours were spent with the two of you passing the bong back and forth and grinning at each other like a couple of fools. Dave had wasted no expense on this batch of weed. It was smooth and easy to inhale. Unfortunately, it still made you want to cuddle, like most drugs and alcohol did.

That was how you found yourself in this position.

This “position” meaning that you were sitting on Dave’s lap, head buried in his neck and grinning like a little girl. He didn’t seem to mind much, his arms around your shoulder and his breath against your own neck. You had almost fallen asleep on him when his hands grabbed hold of your ass.

“Hey now, no one told me you were this gorgeous, Ampora.” Dave muttered against your skin and goose bumps rose on your arms and neck. You sat back slightly and glanced at him. He was smirking at you in the usual Strider style, something you’d come to know as the “Look”. At least, that was what Jake called it.

_”The Look”_ as he described it, _”Is that facial expression either one of those gorgeous Striders get when they decide that you are on the menu for the night.”_ He had then proceeded to wag his eyebrows at you and walk back to the older Strider, Dirk, who happened to be giving his boyfriend the Look.

Now that you could see it on Dave’s face and he was right in front of you, you decided Jake had been right. Dave had decided he was going to fuck you.

And you had decided you were going to let him.

As soon as he took that stupid noise off of repeat and put on a better song.

When you told Dave this, all he did was roll his eyes and pick you up, ignoring your squawk of protest.

He carried you into what you assumed was his room where the music was quieter and the lighting was darker.

You had no time to say anything before he was on you, kissing your neck and collar while he worked your shirt up over your chest. You whimpered when he licked one of your nipples and almost moaned when he decided to suck on it. He rolled the other between his finger tips and you let out another unmanly sound.

Dave pulled off your skin with a ‘pop’ and a grin. “Go ahead, Eri. Make noise. It’s cool.”

He pulled your shirt over your head and threw it somewhere off in the distance before lowering himself to catch your mouth in a kiss. You took advantage of this and pulled his shirt up his chest as well. He licked and bit at your lips gently and the small twinge of pain only served to make your erection harder.

His palming the bulge in your pants didn’t help either.

Dave obviously had a patience issue, because your pants were off by the time he’d finished kissing you. He lowered himself down your body to mouth your dick through your boxers, tantalizingly slow and deliberate.

Your briefs followed after your pants and were flung carelessly away as Dave went down on you, taking you to the hilt in one smooth motion. This only served to embarrass you further.

That was, until Dave produced a bottle of lube and a condom out of nowhere.

“Wwere those… in your pocket?” You whimpered, and Dave pulled off you with another soft pop.

“A Strider is always prepared.” Was all Dave said as he pressed a slickened finger to your entrance. It slid in easily, but was a bit uncomfortable. Until Dave found and prodded your prostate. Then you just became a bit of a whiny hot mess.

“Please tell me this isn’t your first time.” Dave muttered and you looked up to watch him unbutton and unzip his pants one handed. Of course he was ambidextrous. He made a living on a DJ table.

“No.” You muttered in reply and Dave slid a second finger into you, scissoring them.

“Then can I skip the third finger?”

“No!”

Dave rolled his eyes but obliged you, slipping a third finger inside you. You knew there was still going to be quite a bit of stretching once he entered you because now his male glory was in front of you, completely visible and completely hard.

Dave again used his ambidextrous abilities to roll on the condom and slick himself up with more than enough lube. 

There was a stretch as Dave slid into you, without any warning. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly wasn’t wonderful. You were taken back for a moment to Highschool when you and Sollux had screwed around after Prom.

Then Dave hit your prostate and everything else you had on your mind was forgotten.

“Can I?” Dave grunted softly and you moaned out your consent.

He began to rock inside you, each time hitting your prostate and it wasn’t long before you were more than ready to let your load go. 

Dave, being himself, kept in excellent time with that stupid track playing from the other room and this time, when the song ended, so did both of you.

You came over your own chest with a noise that you had no idea you could make. Dave came in you with less then a grunt.

He pulled out of you and tied off the condom, getting up. For a moment you hoped he wouldn't kick you out after that. Your fears were hushed when Dave came back with a wash cloth and wiped the spunk off your chest. He tossed the rag somewhere and crawled into bed beside you, throwing an arm around your stomach and pulling you back to spoon with you.

"Happy fucking Valentine's Day, Eridan." Dave muttered, using your full name for the first time that night.

Maybe this wasn't the worst Valentine's Day on the planet.

You decided, yes, this was probably one of the best Valentine's you'd ever had as you laid back against Dave Strider.

"Davve?"

"What?"

"Go shut that stupid song off."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was based off the song Catfight by Technoboy.
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZoEBCxVyii0
> 
> Don't like, Don't read, Don't comment.


End file.
